


A Parody Of A Smile

by Red_Cross_Roads (Scarlet_Nin)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen Walker Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Marie, Blood and Injury, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kanda Yuu has a heart, Lavi is a Dork with a brain, Protective Lenalee Lee, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:28:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Nin/pseuds/Red_Cross_Roads
Summary: All it takes for Allen's mask to crack is the sight of an old face coming back to haunt him. A nightmare he couldn't think of is becoming a reality and every time he sees Cosimov smile, he can feel the phantom sting of a fist hitting his face, the frostbite chilling his skin. He's eight again, hurting, bitter and on his own against someone who's trying his hardest to make him miserable. But this time he's got Mana's armor to shield him, so it'll be fine. Nobody will notice what's happening behind the stage as long as he does his best to keep up appearances.He's dealt with Cosimov before, he'll manage to endure it again. For the sake of keeping his promise to Mana.Expect between the keen eyes of a swordman, the observation skills of a Bookman and the attention of a concerned friend his secret won't be burried for long beneath his slipping smiles. It's only a matter of time until the curtain falls.
Relationships: Kanda Yuu & Allen Walker, Kuro no Kyoudan | The Black Order & Allen Walker, Lavi & Allen Walker, Lenalee Lee & Allen Walker
Comments: 28
Kudos: 262





	A Parody Of A Smile

Nightmares never stop, not even when you wake up because deep down there’s a part keeping it alive with fear, feeding it so it can fester inside your mind and hook its claws into your heart. Whatever is kept inside the heart may never be lost for its carved into the deepest part of your sense of self, shaping your actions and feelings to form the person you shall be.

It’s a truth Allen has been painfully made aware of.

_“I don’t like children and crowds who don’t laugh.”_

_“Ya freak, where the hell were ya?”_

_“You’ll end up dead if you don’t snap out of this pity party, kid.”_

_“At least, say “Good work”.”_

_“You useless, ugly thing.”_

_“Well done, brat.”_

_“Always keep walking, never stop.”_

Yet there are horrors not even the mind could think of.

For all the aimless directions Allen walks to, he’s never forgotten a single face.

Repressed, yes, but never forgotten.

His lips are pressed into a white, bloodless line as the blood rushes from his head to his toes leaving the world tilting in its axe and his limbs a tingly mess as numbness washes over him like downpouring rain. He’s clenching the end of his shirt at his side, wrinkling the fabric in a habit of restrained frustration he’s long learnt to part with as he keeps his eyes locked onto the large figure a few feet away.

It’s frightening how quiet his mind goes the moment he catches sight of the sleazy smile, far too silent in comparison to his haywire thoughts in battle under stress.

“Allen?”

The hand waving in front of his face does little to get his focus back. Running on instincts, like a puppet strung along on strings made of wire, he turns to see Lenalee’s kind smile.

_Cold and heavy. The harsh ice of winter is seeping into his skin, robbing him of what little warmth he has, turning his stomach in a dirty puddle of rainwater. Fingers stiff, face frozen, he’s drowning in an endless sea of pitch black._

_The light he saw is gone, no colors to be seen._

_The presence at his side used to be warm and steady but he feels nothing._

_No joy, no sense of guilt, no urge to smile._

_Gone are his sensations, like the short puffs of air in the cold, they vanish as soon as they’re made. Chest shriveling up, ribs growing outward as if to pierce through his flesh, all he feels—_

_—is the unbearable cold._

“Are you alright? You spaced out there for a minute…”

“I’m fine.” The smile forcing itself unto his face, hurts. “Thank you for your concern but I haven’t gotten a good rest since I returned from the mission this morning and it would have messed up my sleeping cycle.”

“If you’re sure. Make sure to catch up on it, though, okay?”

“I will.” A liar. Allen is never going to sleep again, or eat as long as what he sees remains within his sight. “You don’t have to worry.”

Lenalee looks like she wants to protest, but doesn’t get the chance as Reever walks over, the newest group of Finder recruitments following along. The group is small. Made up of a few women and a handful of men in their late thirties to forties they’re not much to look at physically wise. There’s nothing special about them, not even with the occasional scar marring the skin.

Except for one.

“Lenalee, Allen! Say hello to the new recruits.”

He echoes Lenalee’s greeting with the same smile on his face Cross used to find unsightly. Empty. Void of live but full of the horrors it gives.

He doesn’t shake a single hand.

“—they’re the Exorcist you will be working with. Remember, their orders go above everything in the field, so be sure to be respectful.”

“Say, can we see their weapons? It ain’t no big deal, right?”

The voice is still the same. It bounces around Allen’s head, cramming into his skull and producing a headache. Reever blinks and turns to them, not thinking twice about the request. The Finder all look curious, a sort of childish excitement speaking of a religious belief they’ll soon lose.

“Of course—”

“No.”

An awkward silence falls over the group at Allen’s pleasant rejection. He sees Lenalee glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, notes the concern in Reever’s frown and scrambles to correct himself.

“Newbies don’t react too well to my sort of weapon. So, I don’t think it would be wise to show it to you. I don’t want you to lose your appetite when Jerry’s cooking is so good.”

“You’re a parasite type then?” A woman asks and Allen nods. He can feel the stares of them on his person, drilling into him as if they might find where his Innocence is located.

It takes every ounce of strength not to curl his left hand into a fist.

“If you’ll excuse me, I came back from a mission and someone told me it would be a good thing if I got my rest before I find my food messed with.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Lenalee would try to force him to sleep with sleeping pills or serums inside his food. Face-planting into pastries while eating would be rude and a sight Lavi would no doubt use to tease him about.

“Ah, sure. Make sure you rest plenty before another mission comes, Allen. Johnny will have you made another uniform to replace the old one.”

“Thank you.”

His burns sting through his clothing, the Level two with the fire ability had come close to burn him into a pile of ash. It’s better than being forced into the infirmary.

Turning around with no direction in mind, he walks away without sparing another glance back towards the group. Shoulders stiff from the way his spine is as straight as a ruler his steps feel unnatural heavy.

He wonders if this is what it feels like to walk to his death.

* * *

_“You’re Allen, right? Better watch out kid, we don’t want you getting lost.”_

_“Are you any good at fighting? I haven’t seen that weapon of yours.”_

_“I’m sure we’ll be peachy.”_

_“How did you get your weapon?”_

_“How useful! So, as long as you’re around, we’re save, right?”_

Something hot curls around Allen’s bones, suffocating and tight like a viper coiling around his throat, ready to infect him with venom at the slightest misshape it chokes out his breath the longer he hears the man talk. Any attempts to silence the mindless chatter were futile. His nerves are hanging onto a thin tread, coiled tight and ready to snap any second.

“You’re not talkative, are you?”

His Finder for the mission smiles, eyes crinkling at the corner as he taps his fingers along the window still in the tiny train compartment they were forced to share together. Allen can’t keep his lips from curling in distaste at the sight of his face. The tilt of cheer his voice bleeds in.

If it wouldn’t be written down in his mission report Allen would have kicked the man out of his compartment as soon as they stepped onto the train.

_(“Smile, Allen! A smile will keep you save. It’s the best armor one could have!”)_

“No.” His answer is strained. Sitting with one of his legs crossed over the other he stares out the window while keeping an eye on the man’s reflection.

“I see, I see.” Allen doubts that, but doesn’t comment.

“You’re young for your job. Aren’t you afraid?”

_(“Are you scared, little Red?”)_

“I’m not scared of Akuma or the Earl.”

Voice losing any hint of politeness Allen doesn’t try to hide his glower. He gets a blink in return and relishes to see the smile fading from the man’s face.

“Sheesh, you’re tense before a mission, aren’t you? Guess the stress of having no back up while you fight might do that to you.”

“It’s a wonder you’re so calm… after all, if I’m busy fighting there’s no one else around to help you out should an Akuma get away. Do make sure to locate the Innocence before it shoots, though, okay?”

Allen bats his eyelashes, lips curling into a smile as sharp as the blade of Mugen. The Finder stills at his words, catching the implications and falls quiet.

Silence never felt so blissful.

* * *

_~~(Thirty. Thirty-Five. Thirty-Eight.)~~ _

_Bullets rain down on him without pause._

_Blood splatters across his brand-new uniform, the edges frayed and torn apart at the seams as he jumps across one machine to the next one._

_The copper taste of blood clings to the root of his mouth as he’s sent flying into a building. People are screaming, their cries echoing within the pleas of the shrieking souls reaching out for help. Bruises throb on his skin, pulsing in agony as he picks himself back up in time to avoid getting his leg cut off._

_~~(Twenty-Seven. Twenty-Two—)~~ _

_Smoke clouds his vision, but his eye cannot be fooled. Dust turns his hair into a murky grey as he throws himself into the disarray of battle. He gains cut after bruise after wound, jumping around like a performer on his biggest rush of adrenaline high and cuts them down._

_~~(Eighteen. Fourteenth. Twelve… Eleven.)~~ _

_Sweat drips into his eyes as he flips off the arm of a Level Two Akuma, catching himself and using another one as a spring board to dodge another bullet rain. His coat is torn in half, rippled with holes and stained with blood as he kicks away another Level Two._

_~~(Nine. Nine. Eight. Seven. Seven. Seven.)~~ _

_His lungs burn in exhaustion, not getting the air in the poisonous smoke clogging up his throat. Swallowing acid would have hurt less, he thinks, but it’s nothing more than a mere distraction rather than a grievous wound he’ll have to deal with._

_~~(Five. Four. Four. Three. Two.)~~ _

_“One.” Allen hisses, narrowing his eye to aim with his arm. He tears the remaining Akuma into pieces, sees the chains snapping like chord strings and lets his muscles relax as his arm transforms back into its natural state._

**_“You…You’re…”_ **

_The voice is shaky, full of disbelief and Allen turns his head, aware of the mess he must be. One sleeve torn away, hair sticking up with his bangs clinging to his face as he’s drenched in the poisonous blood of the Akuma._

_Pulse roaring in his ears, Allen takes in the wide eyes, the skin as pale as his hair with all the blood draining away in shock and bares his teeth in the parody of a smile._

_“You have to pay your respect to the fighters.”_

_The words cut into his tongue as he spits them out in a tone full of artificial sugar._

_“Well? Say “Good work, Sir Exorcist” Cosimov. Go on, give it a try.”_

_To add insult to injury he gestures with his left arm for the man to repeat his words. Cosimov’s face twists into a glower as he takes a step forward, puffing up like a fish and Allen keeps himself from flinching at the gesture with a grip of iron control._

**_(Pain. A kick to the stomach, to his ribs, a tug of his hair, the smelly breath of alcohol in his nose—)_ **

_“What do we have here, Little Red? Got yourself a new job?”_

_Allen lets the man come closer, not cowering into himself but shrinking back a bit as he notices the height difference. Cosimov’s eyes roam over his face, taking in every detail as Allen feels his skin crawl underneath the scrutiny._

**_(Impossible to beat. His bruised ribs can’t hold his chest together much longer. White splotches of makeup cling to his bruises, mixing together with the oozing blood from his split lips and the purple bruises coloring his ashen skin into a new shade—_ **

**_—Fear. His body trembles all over as the man looms over him. A Damocles sword waiting to strike him down—_ **

**_~~He doesn’t want to die.)~~ _ **

_“And a new name, didn’t you?”_

_Cosimov hums, glee visible brightening his face. A hand comes to rest on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin but he can barely separate the pain from the numbness having taken hold of him. The man looms close, lips pressing against the shell of his ear, paralyzing him as his shadow swallows up everything._

_“No, you didn’t get that, did you? You stole it. From a flea-filled mutt no less! —”_

**_(A warm tongue licking his hand. The happy bark of a playful dog. Kind brown eyes. A hole in the ground. The dog laying in the snow in a pool of dried blood. Beaten to death. A shower of red clouding his vision drowning out the dark blue filling his lungs.)_ **

_Hand snapping out to take the wrist of the hand holding onto his shoulder Allen twists it as he takes a handful of the beige uniform around the vulnerable neck into his hand._

_Cosimov yells out in pain, but the streets are deserted in the face of the Akuma attack._

_“Listen closely,” Allen says, eyes bright in their fury as he pulls the man closer until they’re on eye-level. Close enough to feel the warm puffs of air on his skin. “you’ll stay away from me. You won’t breath a word of anything to anyone useless you want it to be your last.”_

_“Are you threatening me?”_

_The man wheezes out as he struggles. All Allen has to do is twist his wrist a bit further, feeling the bone inside his grip, for the man to start crying out as his knees begin to shake._

_“Don’t be absurd. I don’t threaten, I promise and trust me, I’ll keep my word even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”_

_Instead of pushing the man away from him, he pulls his head back and snaps it forward before letting go. Cosimov shouts, falling backwards into the bloody dirt as he scrambles to cradle the forming bruise on his head. Blood begins to trickle down his face and Allen wipes his hands on his ruined uniform like he’s touched something vile._

_The sound of his heart rattling against his aching ribs drowns out any shouts Cosimov hurls his way. Not blessing the man with another glance, Allen walks away._

_“Want to know the difference between us?” He calls out without turning around after a moment of consideration, pausing in his steps._

_A scoff meets him._

_“I won’t even have to dirty my hands like you love to do if I want you to disappear.”_

_Waving a hand, he’s walking once again, leaving the information to sink in. There’s no more time to waste._

_He has a mission to complete._

* * *

_“Let me help you with that.”_

_“Want me to get you seconds?”_

_“Can I join in? I’m a pretty good player myself.”_

_“Good game.”_

_“He does have a cute face.”_

_“Hey now! I’m only giving a bit of friendly advice.”_

A pat on the back, a brief brush of a hand ruffling his hair and smiles thrown at him wherever he goes. Cosimov is playing a new game and Allen hates it.

Most of all he hates that it’s working.

_I’m not scared. I’m not!_

Thoughts twisting into a knot he lays awake during the night cursing himself for every twitch he gives when Cosimov comes near. The touches are far and between. Not hurting for the occasional tug at the end of his strands when the man can get away with it but Allen’s body is expecting a slap, a kick or a punch and with all the witnesses around Allen can’t be anything but polite.

_~~He can do nothing but allow these harmless touches to happen~~ _ _._

He’s thrown off at the mask of pleasantness the man portrays in his vicinity. Greeting him with smiles in the hallway, choosing to sit at his table in the cafeteria when he catches him alone or without another Exorcist around, offering to help out when he sees Allen carrying stacks of papers or coffee. Even with the occasional spill of said coffee ending up on Allen’s shirt with the apologies Cosimov spews out, while fake, are shielding him from any payback Allen could deal out.

He can’t relax. Not with the man intent on following him around. Frustration makes his temper shorter than it is and most of the time he ends up snapping at Kanda. It’s not fair, Allen thinks, curling into his blanket, getting no comfort from the warmth it provides.

It’s not fair he’s forced to lock his door because otherwise he won’t be getting any sleep.

* * *

“—isn’t that right, Allen?”

The fork going towards his mouth pauses. “What?”

He’s spacing out again. It happens more often than he likes to admit, he knows. But nobody notices. Putting his hand back down onto his plate, he tries not to let the grin thrown his way across the cafeteria get his hackles to rise.

_(He hates it. The way Cosimov takes joy out of his name every time someone says it. A reminder it’s not his own but one he’s borrowed with a desperation to correct the wrongs he’s caused.)_

The food he’s shoveling into his mouth with routine muscle memory the past ten minutes is tasteless on his tongue. He offers Lenalee an apologetic smile as she shakes her head in exasperation and flushes a bit in embarrassment at the stares he gets.

“Always thinking about food.”

Kanda grunts, not sparing him much of a glance as he sips on his tea. Allen throws him a glare glad he’s got a reason to show his irritation at the situation before focusing back on what Lenalee is telling him.

“We were talking about forgiveness. Lavi said there are things people can’t forgive, no matter the circumstances and I told him it deepens on the situation and how hard the person tries to make things right again and on what the offensive being done was. I mean, everybody deserves a second chance, right?”

Bright and warm eyes are searching his own, looking for an answer Allen knows is expected of him but can’t be given. His silence goes on until Kanda is looking at him with furrowed brows and the attention is enough to make him feel like he can’t breathe.

Eyes darting across the table, he feels the fork underneath his grip bent when he catches sight of Cosimov’s smile as he glances past Lavi’s head. No doubt has the Bastard been listening in, knowing he wouldn’t get away with sitting at a table full of Exorcists. Some rules and habits cannot be broken overnight.

“No,” Gritting his teeth and letting go of his fork to hide his trembling hands underneath the table before anyone sees, he doesn’t take his eyes off Cosimov as he speaks. “some people cannot be forgiven.”

“Because you hate them too much?”

Allen tries not to let the shock in Lenalee’s hesitant question bother him.

_~~(I’m not playing his act right. Get yourself together. She’ll notice! My mask is slipping. Mana wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t have wanted this. He preached about forgiveness—)~~ _

_He hates himself for not being able to be what Mana would have wanted of him. Hates himself for the bottomless pit of bitterness festering inside of his stomach._

_—But he can’t forgive what Cosimov has done._

“Hate is fleeting on its own. But hatred born out of love will never lose its strength. When someone takes away something you love there’s no way, you’ll find forgiveness inside your heart. Not if you’ve truly experienced its loss.”

A hand finds his own underneath the table and squeezes. Tearing his eyes away from Cosimov’s face to see Lenalee looking at him, he’s aware the smile on his face has vanished during his speech.

He can’t find the strength to bring it back.

But Lenalee seems to understand. With her comforting warmth of skin on his own, she gets it. She gets it so Allen doesn’t have to explain anymore and—

“It’s okay. We’ll defeat the Earl, don’t worry.”

—the hope blooming inside his chest fizzles out like a candle in the rain.

_(She doesn’t get it. The thing Allen can’t forgive is a person, not the monster of the story. Kind and compassionate Lenalee wouldn’t understand._

_Sheltered from the cruelty of the outside world with her brother’s love…she doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone, miserable and hungry without love. Doesn’t know what starving feels like or how it is to be hated with no one to rely on. She’s known unconditional love—_

_—so, she could never understand the pitch-black waves inside his chest threatening to drown him in his hatred. Never.)_

Bile is rising in his throat, but he nods glancing down at his plate of mashed potatoes.

“Of course, we will.”

It comes out strong and steady as he excuses himself. More believable than Allen thinks he could have pulled off but he gets up, tidies up after himself and flees the cafeteria and the sickening smell of food without regret.

He doesn’t notice Lavi’s eye narrowing at his bent fork nor does he feel Kanda’s suspicious glance focusing on him until he’s out of sight.

All he knows is he needs to get away.

* * *

_She doesn’t get it._

_(“Don’t be like that Allen! Everybody deserves another try. If you don’t give them a chance, you’ll never see if people can change. And they do. Always and always changing in their nature after the right push into the right direction. Aren’t you a striking example of that?”)_

_“No, no, no.”_

_It’s not right. He has a right to be angry. Even Mana had bad days, sad days, so it’s fair Allen deserves some of his own days, isn’t it? Cosimov deserves it. He isn’t changing—he isn’t!_

_He can’t be. It’s not all inside his head._

_“He pushed me. Made me drop all the papers. Got people to laugh at my clumsiness.”_

_Allen spits the words into his reflection, watching his face morph into the scowl he used to wear every day. Until Mana came along. Mana who’d want him to try to forgive what can’t be forgiven._

_“He’s wrong. He’s wrong!”_

_He chants, eyes darting across his face before landing on his scar._

_“It’s a performance! One where he plays nice, but it’s all fake nonetheless. He’s not changed. Not one bit!”_

_He won’t lose. He won’t. He’s gotten better at playing the clown. He can’t say anything either. They’ll think he’s wrong. They’ll expect him to accept an apology from a man who’s worse than the demons they fight._

_So, why…does he feel like he’s in the wrong?_

_Why does the sight of makeup upon his face make him want to scream?_

_“Damn it…Damn it!”_

_He shatters the mirror in his bathroom, right hand dripping blood over the white porcelain of his sink as the shards cut into his hand. His harsh pants fill the silence as he grips onto the sink to steady himself._

_“I’m sorry.” He whispers, eyeing the water dripping into his sink. “I’m sorry but I can’t. I can’t do it.”_

_He reaches out with a shaking hand, turning on the water tap to wash the makeup from his face. If he ends up with a bruise on his cheek from rubbing too hard with his hands, good makeup will cover it in the morning._

_Timcanpy flutters around his head, rubbing against his cheek in destress. Allen marches himself to bed, hides underneath the covers and lays awake, thinking until his thoughts are pouring out of his ears._

_His bed dips as a large weight settles next to him._

_Rolling over, he hugs Timcanpy’s huge form close to his chest, thinking back to the last time he’s done this. Feeling small like a kid, he huddles as close as he can seeking warmth._

_A wing settles over his body and he breathes easier._

_“Tim,” Allen mumbles into his pillow. “don’t growl or bite that man. The others can’t notice and you shouldn’t put vile things into your mouth.”_

_Timcanpy growls, petting him with the wing, almost sulking as he tries to squish him closer. It brings a smile to Allen’s face as he strokes over the cross painted on the golem’s body._

_He doesn’t glance at the door during the night with Tim so close._

* * *

Days pass in a blur. Mission are a gift and the gratitude he feels at getting to be away from headquarters makes the guilt he feels at the relief of being away from a place which should have been a home to him lessen considerably. It’s not enough to dampen his mood, even when it’s a mission with Kanda.

At least Marie is good company.

Everything should have been fine. Fantastic even.

“I know, Allen.”

Two simple words. Yet they hold enough power to make his twirling thoughts come to an abrupt stop. White flashes across his vision, sounds fading for a moment as the breath is knocked out from his chest.

_He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows—_

_—What does he know?_

While Marie can’t have seen he could have heard. He could have heard Cosimov shove him into the wall when nobody was around, could have heard the words he’s said about their shared history, about what could happen if somebody were to find out.

_“They’ll think you unfit to do your job. Spineless. To let yourself be bullied by the likes of me…how much worth is an Exorcist who’s scared of people?”_

_“Would they even believe you?”_

The occasional bruise from a shove in the hallway or the burns from a spilled coffee don’t get noticed in this line of work. But Allen can’t bear the thought of once again being called a liar. Not with the way everybody used to take Cosimov’s side last time. The man is a fantastic liar, he’s well enough liked by the Finders he works with and he’s not stupid enough to get mouthy in the present of the other Exorcists.

Allen can’t retaliate. Not with Mana’s words hanging over him. Not with other people around as witnesses. He can’t disappoint the belief these people have in him.

_“You’re a good kid, Allen.”_

It’s all he’s got left. Taking that away…

—He’d be all on his own again.

The thought fills him with unbidden terror.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Marie lays a hand on his head, he flinches. Palm large and heavy, it forces Allen to look up and he pretends he doesn’t see Marie’s sad smile.

“You should tell someone.” He says, stroking his hair. The touch is gentle. “Before they find out on their own.”

_Why?_

“Nobody will notice.”

They have other things to worry about. He’s doing his job like he always does, so there’s no reason to give him more attention. It’s fine.

Marie’s smile turns into a frown. “How do you know they don’t already have?”

“They would have said something.”

“Or they’re waiting for you to speak up because they aren’t sure. You’re a private person, Allen, we don’t want to take that away from you. But that doesn’t mean you’re alone. Not all battles need to be fought on your own.”

Licking his lips, mouth far too dry Allen dares to ask. “Who knows?”

“You’d be surprised at who’d have your back should things go wrong. The people at the Order don’t have much, so they’ll protect their own with everything they’ve got. And Allen, you’re more of a part of this family then he is.”

“Because I’m an Exorcist?”

Cross used to say usefulness was everything for the Order. Weaknesses should never be revealed, lest of all they’ll use it against him. Drunken ramblings as they were Allen took them to heart.

“No,” Marie’s voice is firm but not unkind as he shakes his head and lets his hand slip from Allen’s head to his shoulder. “because you’re a good person. And standing up for yourself doesn’t change that. Not in the eyes of people who matter.”

The hand is gone as Marie steps away. Allen wants to reply but he doesn’t know what he should say.

The choice is taking away from him as the world bleeds monochrome.

For a moment, Allen curses Marie’s kindness of sending Kanda away to speak with him alone. They could use another hand.

The hoard of Akuma is bigger than anticipated.

* * *

“This is all your fault. Your attention span of a small child got us into this mess.”

“Nobody told you to jump into the fray.”

The head nurse is gone after explaining in vivid detail what should happen if they discharge themselves before she’s given them permission to leave the medical wing. A warning they both choose to heed, because the woman is beyond terrifying when she wants to be.

She’s scolded him for the pound of weight he’s lost as well. Much to his mortification.

Kanda glares at him from across the room.

“Next time I’ll leave your ungrateful ass behind.”

Allen rolls his eyes, pulling the blanket up to his chin. They’re both tired and in pain, though with Kanda’s healing factor he might be gone in the next two days. 

“Please do if all you’re going to do is to keep whining about it.”

“You’re going to get it as soon as we’re out of here.”

“I’m going to kick your ass.”

Allen says, eyes dropping in the dark as he fights back a yawn. Kanda scoffs, the sound bouncing off the walls but he doesn’t try to fill the silence in the room. Aside from his soft breathing, there’s nothing else to hear with nobody else present. If Allen tries, he can still see Kanda’s form sitting up in his bed, not ready to sleep despite the exhaustion he must feel.

Kanda’s breathing pattern lulls him to sleep.

* * *

**_“How do you know they don’t already have?”_ **

The question haunts him. Just like Cosimov does whenever he’s at headquarters or outside of his room. The man is sticking to his shadow like crap to a shoe. Waiting to strike as soon as they’re out of sight.

That’s the difference between demons and humans. Akuma are save. He can detect them with a single glance hundreds of meters away. He doesn’t see Cosimov coming until it’s too late.

But he does learn which people and places the man avoids like the plague.

And he takes advantage of that.

* * *

_“Get out. Finders have no business in being here.”_

_Kanda scowls, fierce enough Cosimov falters in his steps and nobody else is around to see. Allen pauses, unsure if Kanda woke up on the wrong side of the bed or if he’s seen something he shouldn’t have noticed._

_“But I—”_

_“Get lost.” Kanda growls, not moving from his meditating position. It does the trick. Cosimov backs out of the door despite knowing Finders do have a right to the training room if they’re brave enough to endure the glares or if another Exorcist willing to share is present._

_“Tch, spineless.”_

_Allen can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. If Kanda is surprised, he doesn’t let it show._

_His frown only deepens._

* * *

_“I’m happy to help you out any time, Jerry-san!”_

_“You’re such a kind boy, my dear. Now, let’s not keep these hungry people waiting~.”_

_“Of course, sir.”_

_Allen’s not good at cooking. Never having learnt beyond the simplest meals. But Jerry doesn’t mind if he just hands it out and washes the dishes later on. The man coos at him, using him as a taste tester, even if he knows his meals are top-notch without consulting. He pinches his cheeks, forcing a handful of sweets into his hands as payment every time he asks to help out._

_“Here you go. I hope you enjoy your meal.”_

_Cosimov takes one glance at his beaming smile and apologizes for his lack of appetite before he flees the cafeteria._

_Good to know the man doesn’t think himself save enough to eat what he thinks Allen might have prepared with poison. He ends up eating the meal instead, enjoying every bite as he chews._

_It’s the only time food seems to taste good again._

* * *

**_“How do you know they don’t already have?”_ **

_He’s seen Lenalee talking with the man yesterday. She seemed happy, or at least not as disgusted as Allen felt being in the same room as him. Miranda thanks him when he helps her up after she’s fallen, not noticing the man didn’t spare her a glance before he’s caught a glimpse of her Exorcist uniform. He’s seen the man laughing with Toma, showing him a cheap circus trick to the awe of his small Finder audience._

_He decides they have no idea of the monster wearing human skin._

_But it’s fine if they don’t see. They can’t see Akuma either._

_It’s what Allen is there for after all._

* * *

They don’t notice until his control slips. Until Cosimov crosses a line

Allen didn’t notice the door to the training room opening. He’s nursing his bruised torso after his spar with Kanda, wiping away sweat with a towel when a water bottle is held out towards.

_(A hand holding glass shards. The sickening-sweet alcohol filled breath giving him an order. A hand being drawn back—)_

“Here—”

_~~(“Here. Mix this into that mutt’s food—“)~~ _

“—you must be thirsty.”

Feeling the eyes of his friends on his back, Allen takes the water bottle but doesn’t drink. The plastic squeezes underneath his harsh grip, protesting at the roughness and Allen eases his grip with a nod.

Expressing gratitude to the man would end up with him swallowing his own tongue, so he doesn’t try to force the words out.

“You’re awfully close with our buddy, here, aren’t cha?”

Lavi’s curiosity is a horrible thing. Allen startles when an arm pulls him close.

“We worked together at the circus years back.”

Cosimo’s weight is heavy on Allen’s shoulder as he fights to keep his bearings. It’s as if his body has frozen, filled to the brim with ice.

“Good old times, those were, ain’t that right, Red?”

Confusion clouds every face present at the nickname. A spark of electricity shots through his spine. Hot and full of static, Allen shrugs the arm of with one sharp jerk of his shoulder, not trusting himself to do so with his hand lest of all he breaks a bone and narrows his eyes.

“My _name_ is _Allen_.”

Instead of the bristling heat of insistence Allen uses whenever Kanda refuses to call him by name, the words he speaks now are full of ice. Low, sharp and dangerous. A second away from breaking to the molting fury coursing through his veins. It’s not a reminder, but an order. One Cosimo should follow if he wants to avoid the medical wing.

_(I’ll never be called that again. I have a **name**. A name he’ll use. The name he killed. I’m not the freak at the circus show anymore—)_

The man blinks, shock visible on his face before he tries to cover it up with a laugh, but his face has gone a shade paler and Allen has to fight the grin threatening to show on his face as satisfaction burns and melts the ice.

“Ah, right. He’s kind of sensitive about that, yeah? I’d advise against calling him anything but his name.”

Lavi’s grinning as he pats the man on the shoulder with sharp slaps which might have looked friendly if one didn’t know the difference. It’s a lie since most of the time is spent with teasing him with all sort of names in favor of watching him get upset and yet, Lavi must have seen something on his face for his playfulness to have turned into dust.

Nobody calls Lavi out on his lie.

“Not to mention, it’s kind of disrespectful. I know he’s got the height of a kid, but don’t mistake him for one. Trust me, you’ll end up being deceived by his harmless face with the big eyes and then, the next thing you know is you’ll be missing your wallet and clothes.”

Cosimo nods, as if he understands as Lavi leads him to the door and pushes him out with the excuse of training. The door of the training room falls shut with the creak of metal slamming closed and Allen feels being pushed into the center of unwanted attention.

“The fuck was that?”

It would be easy, Allen thinks, to end this. If he said the right words now, if he spoke the truth, he wouldn’t have to see Cosimo again. Not with Lenalee’s suspicious frown, the unease brimming in her eyes. Lavi’s grin is too wide to be anything but fake, the corner of his lips pulled back to show his teeth in aggression. Kanda appears to be the one the most thrown off for a change. Eyes wide and dark and furious as he glares at Allen as if he stares look enough, he’ll spill out what’s wrong with him.

Exorcists were more valuable than Finders. It would be so _easy_.

_“You should tell someone.”_

**_“Would they even believe you?”_ **

“Nothing.” Comes out of Allen’s mouth, short and to the point. A demand to drop the subject.

Of course, Kanda either misses the clue or just doesn’t care. Allen would bet all his savings on the latter.

“Like hell it was. You nearly bit his head off.”

He’d done much worse if it came to that, but he can’t say that. So, Allen rolls his eyes hard enough for it to hurt.

„And? Just because people have no manners these days, doesn’t mean I have to let it slide.”

“You’re angry.”

Lenalee cuts into the argument, quiet but sure. She observes him with keen eyes, the way she does when she inspects him after missions because she doesn’t trust him not to lie about his own wounds.

“Yes, you’re annoyed when Lavi and Kanda tease you but this…this isn’t the same. Allen, what’s going on?”

_We can go to my brother. If you explain it to him, he’ll find a solution._

He can hear Lenalee’s silent plea for the truth, her soft reassurance she could fix this in the way she takes a step forward. Like she wants to grab onto his wrist and drag him to Komui’s office herself.

But he can’t say it. Not if it means he’ll let the Bastard win this game of wills. Allen refuses to lose.

_(“Everybody deserves a second chance, right?”)_

He can’t take the risk if he doesn’t know the outcome.

“I just don’t like to be called that.”

“Why?”

“It’s silly,”

Allen knows he’ll have to be believable with this lie if he wants to soothe Lenalee, so he’s going to be honest to a certain degree.

“but you know my hair hasn’t always been white. Before it was this sore shade of reddish brown and people liked to tease me. The name stuck and it brought up unpleasant memories I’d rather like to forget.”

“It’s not silly if it bothers you, Allen.”

Lenalee lays a hand on his shoulder, trying to catch his eyes and she stands tall. Firm in her belief to make him believe her words. Allen gives her a weary smile and nods.

He doesn’t need to look further to see her shot a glance at Lavi and Kanda, a clear warning that calling him by that was off-limits if they didn’t want her to get her boots involved.

He dodged a bullet yet there’s no relief. If anything, the noose grows tighter around his neck.

He wonders when the chair underneath his feet will fall.

* * *

_“I hate him.”_

_Allen hates himself too, for admitting it, but there’s no denial for the pitch-black fury bubbling up inside his chest. The man deserves death, punishment, beatings until he cries for mercy he won’t be granted._

_He wonders if his friends will look at him with the same soft eyes if they were privy to this side of him._

_“I hate him.”_

_It’s a quiet confession he’ll only admit to himself in the darkness of his room._

* * *

He endures months. Months of the torture.

Cosimov survives his missions with minor injuries. Most likely to the fact he spends the time sacrificing others and hiding from the demons. The man’s like a cockroach—leeching of the generosity of others, not dying no matter how often you try to squash him with a shoe. For some reason the man spends most of his missions involving Exorcists with Krory or Kanda.

The pressure of the job isn’t easy to bear. Cosimov’s temper gets shorter. He starts drinking again and it had been his last mistake to make.

Alcohol was a truth serum he willingly subjected himself to. The parties at the Order spare no money in their expenses to give the people a nice time to heighten the spirits of their soldiers.

Alcohol washes away the painting of any masks. It strips the man of his human skin and reveals the monster Allen sees to everybody’s eyes. All one had to do is ask the right questions and like a shark smelling blood Lavi had noticed the man’s lose tongue and in his thirst for answers, began to pry them out.

_“You knew Allen as a child, didn’t you? What was he like?”_

A harmless question. A question Cosimov couldn’t resist to answer.

“Oh, he’s been a mouthy little thing. Didn’t know when to keep his trap shut and to listen to his betters.”

Lavi nods, keeping his arm around Allen’s shoulders as he listens. Cosimov isn’t discreet in keeping his voice down and they’re drawing an audience of noisy people. The slow chatter of most of the science department quieting as they drew near like bears smelling honey.

Allen’s heart sinks when Lavi tightens his grip when he tries to pull away.

_(“How do you know they don’t already have?”)_

_(“You’d be surprised at who’d have your back should things go wrong.”)_

“He does have a quick temper,” Lavi agrees, ruffling Allen’s hair. “but he’s got a lot of talent as a performer. A true clown through and through. With a flair for dramatics.”

It’s teasing, Allen knows, but Cosimov doesn’t. The man perks up at the smiles and chuckles around, like putting Allen down is a free-pass to join in and scoffs. Loudly.

“As the main attraction of the freak show, maybe. The only thing he could have done to earn money with his paralyzed hand and yet, he begged the Trope master to give him another job.”

The laughter is gone. Lavi’s hand tightens on Allen’s shoulder, almost forceful enough to hurt and the sharp intake of breaths are loud to his ears.

_(Stop. Stop! They don’t need to know. Stop talking.)_

“Well, he got another job. A better one I’d say because of his hand. He’s good at keeping the spirits high. Never fails to get a rise out of Yuu-chan.”

Cosimov pulls a face, taking another sip of whatever alcohol beverage he got his hands on. His fourth glass judging from the empty glasses near him.

“Oh yes, Red’s got a way with making people lose their composure. Though, I don’t get what you mean with high spirits. Everybody at the circus lost all their motivation to work when they looked at him. Never told us he appreciated our work either. Wouldn’t say “Good work” to anyone. Spent ages cleaning the equipment too. Always pulling such a gloomy face.”

Allen tugs down his left sleeve, staring at the ground as he presses his lips into a thin line, hearing the grinding of Lavi’s teeth as he fights to keep his grin on his face.

“I’m sure Allen did his best.”

Miranda says, frowning at the man who raises an eyebrow at her and Lenalee nods, her smile gone as she narrows her eyes at the man.

“Yeah, it couldn’t be easy to clean the equipment of the workers _with a single hand_. Also, his name is Allen. Please use it.”

Cosimov laughs. The sound makes Allen flinch. He distantly hears a glass crack. The Finders and Scientists at the table sitting with Cosimov stand up to move away, leaving their plates of food and their drinks.

“No, it’s not.”

“It is.”

Allen says before he can stop himself. He puts on a smile, hoping to correct the picture Cosimov tries to put into people’s head. “Red wasn’t a name to begin with.”

It was an insult. One to shame him. To remind him of his place and judging from the pinched looks around him, they’re starting to get the meaning behind it as well.

“It’s the only thing you’ve got. Your parents didn’t bother giving you one before throwing you out to be sold.”

“I wasn’t the only one to be sold if I remember it right.”

Cosimov’s smile is wiped away, turning into a fierce scowl. “With how often you got thrown around it’s a wonder you can even remember the name you stole.”

Allen sees Miranda’s hands cover her mouth, feels Lavi twitch beside him and feels his cheeks flush. Hands curling into fists at his side, he narrows his eyes.

**_~~(“He stole my watch! It was him. Couldn’t resist the little liar.”)~~ _ **

“I didn’t steal anything!”

His pulse is throbbing underneath his skin, stomach rolling as if Lenalee gave it a kick. He itches to step forward, to make the man eat his words. But he doesn’t because he’s not the same as all those years ago, thus he tries to explain—to justify himself in the eyes of these people he’s come to like even if he doesn’t know why he has to explain himself at all.

“Mana gave it to me. He gave me the name, Allen Walker, so use it.”

Cosimov’s face lightens up in glee and Allen knows he’s made a mistake. The man claps his hands, standing up from his seat at the table he’s sitting on his own and chuckles.

“That’s rich! The nutter giving you the name of his dog? How fitting!”

Allen’s nails dig into his palm, breaking the skin.

_(Don’t let him win. Keep your cool. He’s not going to win.)_

“Still sore he’s made you useless to keep with the way he ran you out of business with his talent?”

Cosimov’s humor bleeds out of his voice as he glares, pushing out his chest to make himself seem bigger. Eyes darkening in their fury Allen braces himself for what’s to come.

“Did the lunatic notice the difference between his well-behaved dog and you or did he put you into a little cage like a wild animal like we did?”

Something cracks in Allen’s careful mask, splintering into thousand tiny shards. Gone is the smile, one so hallows and empty, full of control he didn’t have and in its place is something hotter. Full of fury as his eyes light up and his lips pull back into a snarl, showing his teeth.

This time it isn’t Cosimov who throws the first punch its Allen.

Allen lets out a shout, a sound full of anger, raw and pulled deep from the chest, more a sound befitting an animal than human and tackles the man over the table.

His fist connects with a satisfying crack as he straddles the man, hand pulling back as blood gushes out. Cosimov’s breath stinks of alcohol and he tries to breath around the hand Allen’s got fisted around his collar, shaking him as his head slams against the floor. People are yelling, shouting and before he can punch the man again there are hands warping around his waist lifting him off and pulling him away as he kicks out.

“Let me go.” He’s a squirming mess, mind blank expect for the pulsing hot rush of red washing his gaze and the smell of jasmine tells him Kanda is holding him with his arms extended upwards under Allen’s armpits, holding his neck with interlaced fingers, a safe distance away from the man. He can’t move. “He deserves it!”

“A little help here?”

Kanda says, voice rough and Lavi puts his hands-on Allen’s shoulders, standing in front of him with his face void of emotion.

“You need to calm down.” He says trying to catch his gaze. Allen glowers at him, wanting to see over his shoulder as he struggles in the hold.

“You broke his nose, Allen. With your Innocence.”

Lenalee’s voice is quiet and the disappointment in her tone is enough to make Allen pause. He hears Miranda crying as Lavi steps away, revealing the sight of Cosimov holding his bleeding nose.

_(“—or did he put you into a cage like a wild animal like we did?”)_

_(…I’m proving him right. I’m behaving like a wild beast.)_

Breathing speeding up as he glances at the faces around him, he can’t read with his blurring vision he fidgets. Shifting his weight from feet to feet, he looks away.

“Are you alright?”

He hears Lenalee say, wishing Kanda would let him go so he leave. It’s beyond humiliating. The stares and hushed whispering, as if he’s put on stage. In the eyes of the people he’s destroyed his image. Kind and sweet Allen losing his temper and hitting an intoxicated man, a normal person without a special healing factor like Kanda or special abilities, with a weapon of mass destruction.

_Mana would be disappointed…_

_Even if he did deserve it, I shouldn’t have let him win._

The sound of slurred cursing lets him know Cosimov has gotten over his shock— _always quick to freeze whenever Allen put up much of a fight or lashed out_ —and is quick to run his mouth. Allen’s head snaps up.

“I should have shoved those glass shards down your throat instead of wasting them on that pitiful flea infested mutt!”

He sneers much to the shock of the present people. Lenalee steps back as if slapped at the words. Any hint of compassion on her face goes up in smoke. Komui puts a hand on her shoulder, face pinched as he pulls her back and Reever who has tried to help the man up let’s go off him as if burnt.

“I’ve heard all about the gift the lunatic left for you. Actually, made you useful for these people here, despite being a talentless parasite. But even he couldn’t stand you for long, could he? Walked willingly into traffic, didn’t he?”

“Piss off!”

The shout echoes across the large cafeteria hall, filled with enough malice to burn a forest into ashes. Kanda stiffens behind him but doesn’t release him.

“I don’t need my eye to see how ugly your soul is.”

Allen hisses, struggling against the firm hold Kanda keeps him in as he glares at Cosimov nursing his broken nose. The blood smearing across his chin is a good look on him.

“It’s rotten beyond belief, downright vile enough to make me want to vomit.”

“That’s enough!”

Komui’s shout throws the hall into silence. He steps forward gesturing towards Cosimov attempting to pick himself up and Reever and Lavi nod, both taking an arm and dragging the man out the doors despite his loud howling of slurred cursing.

“Kanda, let go of Allen.”

It’s a command. Nothing Allen had heard from Komui before. Full of authority and the steel Lenalee can show when she needs to get a situation under control. Kanda lets him go, stepping away and Allen sucks in a breath through his nose, rubbing at his neck.

He knows what he must look like. Breath coming in short and ragged puffs of air, clothes rumbled and face morphed into a scowl dark enough to make flowers wilt. He’s a mess. So, unlike what he wants to be seen as but Komui takes a glance at him, at the way blood clings to his fist, his tussled hair and steps forward.

Allen inches back but doesn’t get far before Komui pulls him into a hug.

It’s tight. Overbearing as his chin is tugged underneath the man’s chin and the hand starts to rub soothing circles on his back, something he’s always hated because instead of calming him down, the motion does nothing but rile him up further as he was uncomfortable with touch.

A shiver sweeps through him, dosing the fire inside his chest with a shower of water. Lungs clearing a bit as if the smoke has been sucked out Allen stands rigid in the hold listening to the soothing noises whispered into the strands of his hair.

Komui doesn’t let go.

Not when Allen starts to fidget, a sign he wants to be let go of. The man clings on tighter, waving once with his hand as people start to leave and the door falls shut with a heavy noise.

He glances at the ruined food, the spilled drinks he caused with the row he had and feels his eyes burn as his cheek is pressed against the soft fabric of Komui’s shirt, the smell of coffee and ink not helping in easing the squeezing grip of an invisible hand around his heart.

“I’m sorry.”

Another lie. He’s not. Not for what’s important to feel guilty about but Allen knows, most people are appeased with an apology. It worked well enough and it’s easy enough to say when he has nothing else to offer. Nothing excusable that would sound believable in his croaky voice.

“No.”

“No?”

Komui’s voice is firm. Unyielding. “No. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Allen doubts that, but after everything he doesn’t want to fight. He nods, trying to untangle himself. Komui lets him pull back but keeps him close by holding onto his shoulders.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. This should never have happened.”

He holds up a hand to silence Allen’s protests.

“No, as the commander of the European branch of the headquarters its my job to ensure you can perform to the best of your abilities as an Exorcist. Much more important I didn’t give you the reassurance and support you needed to confide in me. I’m not just doing this for Lenalee, Allen. You’re all important to me. You guys are my family and if there’s anything I can help you with I want to help. Do you understand?”

_(“The people at the Order don’t have much, so they’ll protect their own with everything they’ve got”)_

“Yes.”

Komui’s face softens. “Good. You don’t need to tell me the details. But if something is troubling you, I want to know.”

“Okay. Next time I’ll come to talk to you about it.”

“Thank you,”

He’s given a smile, small as it be its full of warmth.

“I’ll walk you back to your room. You’ll get some rest and I’m sure Lenalee’s busy telling everyone to mind their own business and to remind them if she gets wind of gossip, I need some volunteers to tidy up my office.”

“That’s horrible.” He says, following Komui.

The hallway to his room is empty and Komui goes as far as to wait until he’s tugging himself into his bed before he turns of the light, wishes him a good rest and closes the door.

Allen falls asleep without nightmares this night. Timcanpy snuggling up to him. His door unlocked.

* * *

_“He’s gone. Memory wiped and sent off to somewhere. You’ll never have to see him again.”_

_Lenalee says, eyes red and puffy when she greets him the next morning. She’s knocked on his door when he didn’t show up for breakfast and his guilt over wasting Jerry’s cooking made him lose his appetite. The dark circles underneath her eyes tells him she’s not caught a lot of sleep, so he lets her coax him into eating lunch._

_Not a single person comes up to speak to him nor do they give him more than a glance in passing in the hallway._

_Allen frowns, not quite knowing what to do. “You didn’t have to do that.”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_Lenalee says, a smile on her face. She seems perfectly composed but her hands are clenching tightly at her sides._

_“If I can’t use the perks of being forced to be an Exorcist, then it’s all pointless isn’t it? I’m not religious, not like the church wants me to be but I believe in karma and if I have to help out every now and then, well, nobody needs to know that.”_

_“I don’t need my battles fought for.”_

_“Of course not.”_

_Lenalee chides, brushing her shoulder against his. She takes his left hand into her own, not minding his flinch and doesn’t seem bothered to the possibility of Komui flying down the hallway with a screech and another robot._

_“I’ve seen you fight; you know. But fighting together is easier than alone. I’ve got these boots for a reason and I’ll use them as I see fit.”_

_“Even to threaten people into silence for my temper tantrum?”_

_“I’ll never hesitate to use them to help you when you’re defending yourself.”_

_She says it like it’s a given and Allen feels an invisible weight fall off his back._

_“Also, I didn’t have to do much. Kanda already took care of ensuring everybody minded “their own goddamned business instead of gossiping like old ladies” and to “stop harassing you for finally growing a spine”. I think he’s actually excited to spar with you now.”_

_“Kanda’s never excited for anything.”_

_He says because it’s easy to tease Kanda no matter what circumstances. Lenalee gives him a look, but doesn’t reprimand him as she pulls him towards Jerry when they step into the cafeteria._

_He’s halfway through apologizing for wasting food when Jerry reaches over the counter to pull him into a tearful embrace._

* * *

Komui calls him into the science department at the end of the week. Allen’s nervous and he knocks before coming in, noticing how everybody stops fussing as soon as he steps inside.

“Ah, Allen! We’ve got something for you.”

Reever calls him over and shoves a bright pink box into his arms when he’s within reach. Allen stumbles back, steading himself. Opening the box after getting an encouraged nod from Reever, he holds his breath.

Donuts are staring up at him, brightly colored with sprinkles of every kind and frosting in different colors. The smell is divine, mouthwatering like everything else Jerry cooks or bakes and there’s a small word scribbled onto each donut.

Allen squints, and as soon as he’s able to read it finds himself blinking back the stinging in his eyes.

The science department tries to appear busy, but they keep glancing at him, watching him to gauge his reaction, to see if lasting damage was done. Their faces are tight with concern, Johnny almost dropping a vital of a potion with his fumbling.

Reever blanches when he gets a closer look at his face.

“Ah, is it the wrong sort? Did we get it wrong?”

Allen laughs, shielding his eyes with his hand. Worried about the choice of food. They should full well know he’s never been picky about food.

“Thank you.”

He says and it comes out less steady than he would have liked it to, but it’s sincere and full of the amount of gratitude he wants them to have because he is. It feels like it’s not enough, another debt he won’t be able to repay but he hears sighs of reliefs, feels a hand on his back, on his shoulder, ruffling his hair.

“That’s what family is for, right?”

“YEAH!”

The yell and shouts echo across the science department and Allen feels his cheeks grow warm. There’s no one around who gives him weird looks, who comments on what’s been said like it’s an unspoken rule not to mention it.

Timcanpy chomps down on one of the donuts and Allen shrieks in horror.

“No Tim! Bad, those are mine!”

A wing pets his cheek before Timcanpy flies out of reach and there’s laughter at their antics as Allen huffs and pouts, cradling the box close to his chest.

“Let’s see if I’m letting you sleep on my bed tonight.”

He grumbles, wiggling a finger at Tim when he comes back down from the ceiling to snuggle close. The times he’s left his room aside for missions have been far and between in fear of getting weird stares thrown his way but everything feels normal.

The occasional whisper reaching his ears is drowned out for moments like this. They’ve seen him like a rabid dog and accepted him. Kanda had taken his habits of fighting dirty into stride as they beat each other up in the training room. Lenalee’s been asking him to show her card tricks with Lavi trying to guess how Allen keeps doing them without him noticing the trick behind them. Miranda throws candy his way every time they see each other. Johnny fusses over his uniform, working on customizing gloves to suit to his tastes. Krory’s made sure to give him a hug every once in a while. Komui makes sure to stick him with Toma or another Finder he likes on missions.

For the first time in years it’s feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm 100% certain if Cosimov showed his face, Crown Clown would strange him without Allen's permission.
> 
> For all of you who're curious to know where the Order sent Cosimov...let's just say you don't wanna mess with people who fight demons for fun. You also don't pick on their favorite parasite Exorcist. Perhaps Cosimov joined the ashes of the burnt circus? Maybe Lavi's hand slipped...
> 
> Hell hath no fury like a pissed off hoard of Exorcists.


End file.
